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BRIEF: CAR — Bozizé Trial In Absentia for Crimes Against Humanity: Africa Facing Its Demons

On June 16, 2026, the Special Criminal Court in Bangui opened the trial of former president François Bozizé for crimes against humanity. The accused seat was empty. The victims were there.

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Key takeaways
  1. On June 16, 2026, the Special Criminal Court in Bangui opened the trial of former president François Bozizé for crimes against humanity. The accused seat was empty. The victims were there.
  2. Introduction: A Ghost in the Defendant's Dock
  3. June 16, 2026: Bangui Enters African Judicial History
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Introduction: A Ghost in the Defendant's Dock

June 16, 2026: Bangui Enters African Judicial History

On that Tuesday morning of June 16, 2026, before the eyes of numerous journalists and civil society representatives gathered in the courtroom of the Special Criminal Court in Bangui, one seat remained empty. This emptiness is not trivial: it is the most concrete sign of a denial of justice that has been ongoing for years. François Bozizé Yangouvonda, 79, former president of the Central African Republic, is being tried in absentia for crimes against humanity — murders, forced disappearances, torture, rape, and other inhumane acts — allegedly committed between February 2009 and March 2013 by his Presidential Guard and other internal security forces in a civilian prison and a military training center in Bossembélé, a strategic town located approximately 150 kilometers northwest of the capital.

This trial, officially designated the "Bossembélé case," is the sixth organized by the Special Criminal Court since its creation in 2015 under UN auspices. It is also the most symbolically charged: for the first time in the history of this hybrid court — composed of Central African and international judges — it is a former head of state who appears, albeit in his absence. While his lawyer, Marie Edith Douzima-Lawson, occupied the seat reserved for the defense, the three co-accused — Eugène Barret Ngaïkosset, Vianney Semndiro, and Firmin Junior Danboy, three former senior military officials arrested in 2021 and 2022 — were present, seated in the defendant's dock in orange jumpsuits.

The Historic Decision to Try Without Waiting

The Special Criminal Court had warned: it would open the trial "with or without Bozizé." At its seventh pre-trial conference held on June 10 in Bangui, the first assize chamber had reaffirmed this unwavering intention, despite the fact that the former head of state had still not been extradited. Gervais Bodagay, head of the SCC communications unit, had stated this clearly. The Court would not let a fugitive dictate its calendar.

This choice is not without controversy. Amnesty International, through its regional director for West and Central Africa, Marceau Sivieude, welcomed the opening while expressing a fundamental reservation: "the fact of trying him in absentia significantly taints this trial. It is essential that he be arrested, extradited, and that he appear in person before the tribunal." These words sum up on their own all the tension running through this historic event: an advance is celebrated, a crutch is deplored.

Bozizé: A Man, a Coup, an Iron Reign

The Armed Seizure of Power in 2003

To understand this trial, one must go back to March 15, 2003, the day François Bozizé armed overthrew President Ange-Félix Patassé and seized power in Bangui. This coup is not a total surprise: Bozizé, a former army chief of staff, had already attempted a putsch in 2001 before going into exile in Chad, from which he launched an offensive with the support of Chadian mercenaries. Once in power, he presented himself as a "savior," organized elections in 2005 which he won, then in 2011, in a context widely contested by his opponents.

His reign is marked by a rhetoric of national reconciliation that masks a far darker reality. The charges underpinning the "Bossembélé" case concern precisely this period: between 2009 and 2013, his Presidential Guard and other internal security units allegedly committed murders, forced disappearances, acts of torture, rape, and other inhumane treatment against persons detained in the civilian prison and military training center of this town in the center of the country. The SCC judges concluded that there were "serious and concordant indicia" of Bozizé's criminal responsibility as a superior and military commander.

The Fall, the Exile, the Aborted Political Resurrection

In March 2013, the predominantly Muslim rebel coalition Séléka overthrew Bozizé. He fled first to Cameroon, then through the Democratic Republic of Congo, before finding refuge. This fall triggered a devastating cycle of violence: in response, predominantly Christian and animist militias, the Anti-Balakas, were formed with Bozizé's indirect backing to retake power. The country plunged into a civil war that would kill thousands of civilians.

In 2019, Bozizé returned to the CAR, claiming to want to run for the presidential election. The Constitutional Court blocked his path, finding that he did not meet the "good morality" criterion in light of his alleged crimes. Rebuffed, in late 2020 he took the lead of a new rebel coalition, the Coalition of Patriots for Change (CPC), directly challenging sitting president Faustin-Archange Touadéra. This is when Russia intervened, sending hundreds of paramilitaries from the Wagner Group to help the government crush the rebellion. The CPC was pushed back, and Bozizé went into exile again — first in Chad, then in Guinea-Bissau since 2023.

The Special Criminal Court: An Institution at the Financial Brink

A Hybrid Tribunal Born from the Ruins of War

The Special Criminal Court was created in 2015, in an exhausted country, with the support of the United Nations and the international community. Its mandate: to investigate, prosecute, and judge serious violations of human rights and international humanitarian law committed in the Central African Republic since 2003. Its hybrid composition — Central African and international judges sitting together — was meant to combine local legitimacy with international standards.

Since its creation, the SCC has already convicted 10 people in absentia in previous trials. The Bossembélé trial is its sixth — and by far the most symbolically significant, since it concerns the man at the top of the state hierarchy at the time of the alleged acts. But this institution, which represents a real hope for thousands of victims, suffers from serious financial difficulties. Its mandate runs until 2028, but crucial questions about its sustainability remain unanswered. More than 30 suspects subject to arrest warrants issued by the SCC in other cases are still at large.

The Paradox of Justice Without Arms

The SCC has no police force of its own. It depends entirely on the cooperation of states — Central African and foreign — to execute its warrants. This is precisely the structural problem that keeps Bozizé out of reach. The institution issued an international arrest warrant against him in April 2024 — some sources specify February 2024 for the initial warrant, confirmed and extended in April — but Guinea-Bissau, the country hosting him, has no intention of extraditing him. Umaro Sissoco Embalo, the Guinea-Bissau president, has made clear he does not plan to hand Bozizé over to Central African justice.

This enforcement vacuum is not unique to the CAR. It is the gaping wound of all international criminal justice: warrants exist, evidence exists, moral condemnations exist — but if nobody goes to arrest the accused, the tribunal speaks into the void. The International Criminal Court itself has endured this affliction for decades. The gap between the proclaimed norm and the applied reality is the Achilles heel of international justice. As long as some states refuse to cooperate, impunity survives.

The Bossembélé Case: The Geography of Crime

A Town, a Prison, a Military Camp

Bossembélé: this name will long appear in Central African judicial annals. This town in the center of the country, approximately 150 kilometers northwest of Bangui, houses two sites at the heart of the charges against Bozizé and his co-accused. On one side, a civilian prison. On the other, a military training center. It is in these two places that members of the Presidential Guard and other internal security forces allegedly committed, according to the indictments, acts of systematic brutality: murders, forced disappearances, torture, rape, and other inhumane acts.

The period covered by the charges runs from February 2009 to March 2013 — nearly the entirety of the last two years of Bozizé's regime. These crimes are not alleged to be the acts of isolated individuals acting on their own: the prosecution's thesis is that Bozizé, as supreme commander of the armed forces and superior officer, is criminally responsible for acts committed by his subordinates, which he allegedly ordered, encouraged, or at minimum tolerated. This is the theory of command responsibility, a pillar of international criminal justice since the Nuremberg trials.

The Co-Accused: Faces on Military Ranks

Three men sit in the orange-jumpsuited defendant's dock, present where their former chief refuses to be. Eugène Barret Ngaïkosset, Vianney Semndiro, and Firmin Junior Danboy: three former senior military officials of the Bozizé regime, arrested in 2021 and 2022 respectively, held in SCC pretrial detention since then. They face the same charges as their former commander — murders, forced disappearances, torture — but they, at least, were captured. They, at least, will be required to answer.

Their physical presence at the trial is itself a signal: the chain of command can be traced upward, responsibilities can be established level by level. The SCC's strategy is consistent with the best practices of international criminal tribunals — tracing from the executors to those who gave orders. The absence of the top link is an immense frustration. But the approach remains sound legally: eventual convictions of the present co-accused could strengthen the case against Bozizé in the event of a future appearance.

The Voice of Victims: Courage Facing the Void

Maximin Lin Crozon Cazin and the Right to Truth

In this trial, one voice counts more than all diplomatic statements: that of the victims. Maximin Lin Crozon Cazin says he was detained and tortured in Bossembélé under Bozizé's rule. When the Associated Press asked his reaction to the opening of the trial without the former president's presence, his response was of disarming clarity: "It is unfortunate that François Bozizé does not have the courage to face justice in his own country. I expect this trial to establish the truth and bring reparations." Two sentences. Dignity in all its force.

This expectation of reparations is as fundamental as the demand for truth. In a CAR where one in three inhabitants lives on less than two dollars a day despite vast gold reserves, victims of human rights violations generally have access neither to care, nor to justice, nor to recognition. The "Bossembélé" trial is an opportunity — fragile, imperfect, but real — to begin filling this recognition deficit. The civil society representatives who attended the opening know this. That is why they were there, in that room.

Civil Society as Guardian of Memory

Beyond the direct victims, it is all of Central African civil society that observes this trial with particular intensity. In a country where institutions have so often been instrumentalized in favor of the most powerful, a tribunal that dares to take on the highest levels of the former hierarchy represents something new. Fragile, but new. The human rights organizations present in Bangui know that the outcome of this trial will have repercussions far beyond this single case.

Because the implications are systemic: if the SCC demonstrates that a former president can be held accountable before a court, this changes the calculus of everyone in the CAR and the region who is tempted by political violence as a mode of governance. Judicial deterrence is never perfect, but it is not zero. Every conviction pronounced in this chamber narrows a little more the space of impunity that has long been the norm in Central Africa.

Guinea-Bissau: Sanctuary of Impunity

Embalo Says No: The Political Price of Complicity

Guinea-Bissau has no extradition agreement with the Central African Republic. This legal fact is invoked to justify the refusal. But there is more. President Umaro Sissoco Embalo has made clear he does not plan to extradite François Bozizé, even though an international arrest warrant has been issued by a UN-backed jurisdiction. This decision is not a legal vacuum: it is a conscious political choice to shelter a man sought for crimes against humanity.

This choice has a price. That price is Guinea-Bissau's credibility on the international stage. By refusing to cooperate with the SCC, Embalo sends a signal to all African leaders under international judicial pursuit: there are places where one is safe. This type of informal protection is one of the main reasons impunity persists. Amnesty International accordingly called on all states harboring suspects subject to SCC warrants to "cooperate fully."

The Absence of an Extradition Framework: A Systemic Gap to Fill

The absence of a binding legal framework for the extradition of persons prosecuted for international crimes remains one of the most persistent obstacles to global justice. The International Criminal Court faces the same problem with some of its suspects. The SCC, a national hybrid court, has even more limited means to compel third states. In practice, its jurisdiction stops at the CAR's borders — and even those borders are not fully controlled.

The long-term solution requires multilateral mutual legal assistance treaties in criminal matters, coordinated diplomatic pressure from the international community on sanctuary states, and targeted economic sanction mechanisms against governments that refuse to cooperate with UN-mandated courts. These are tools that exist in theory. They remain too rarely mobilized. The West, which championed the creation of these international legal instruments, has a responsibility to keep them alive beyond podium speeches.

Wagner, Africa Corps, and the Sponsors of Impunity

Russia as Protector of the Touadéra Regime

There is in this story a geopolitical dimension that cannot be ignored: the Russian presence in the CAR. When Bozizé's Coalition of Patriots for Change threatened to overthrow President Touadéra in late 2020, it was the Wagner Group — the Russian paramilitary structure — that allowed the government to survive. Hundreds of Russian operators were deployed, playing a central role in military operations against the CPC and, by extension, against forces associated with Bozizé.

Now rebranded Africa Corps, this Russian apparatus has become a pillar of Touadéra's regime security. Moscow is pressing Bangui to formalize the replacement of Wagner by Africa Corps and to finance its operations. The CAR has thus become one of the African laboratories of post-Soviet Russian influence. This reality creates deep tensions: on one side, a government that depends militarily on a power that has no interest in seeing international justice flourish too vigorously in the region; on the other, an SCC that attempts, with its meager resources, to maintain an independent judicial space.

The Central African Army and Coup Rumors

This tense context is amplified by the country's political fragility. The very week of the trial opening, the Central African army had to deny coup rumors on social media. The armed forces described the information as "false information intended to create confusion and undermine public confidence." Bangui authorities assured that security forces remained fully operational and loyal to President Touadéra's government. The temporal coincidence between these rumors and the opening of the Bozizé trial may not be accidental.

In a country that has seen several successful coups since its independence in 1960, and where the CAR has endured numerous cycles of armed conflict and authoritarian regimes, nervousness is permanent. The holding of the Bossembélé trial in this climate illustrates how deeply the pursuit of justice in the CAR always unfolds against a backdrop of potential instability. Delivering justice about the past while trying not to sink into new chaos — this is the permanent challenge of Central African institutions.

Command Responsibility: The Law Tested by Reality

A Founding Principle of International Criminal Justice

At the heart of the legal case against Bozizé lies a well-established principle of international criminal law: command responsibility, sometimes called "superior responsibility." This principle, codified in the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court and in the statutes of ad hoc international criminal tribunals, stipulates that a military or civilian superior can be held criminally responsible for crimes committed by their subordinates if they knew or should have known that these crimes were being committed, and if they failed to take the necessary measures to prevent or repress them.

The SCC judges concluded that there were "serious and concordant indicia" against Bozizé "in his capacity as a superior and military commander." This formulation is legally precise and significant: it means that the evidence gathered during the investigation concerns not only the direct perpetrators of the crimes, but reaches all the way to the top of the chain of command. This is the same theory that enabled the prosecution of heads of state and generals before the tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda.

The Evidentiary Challenges of an In Absentia Trial

Trying someone in absentia poses specific evidentiary challenges. In the absence of the accused, the defense is necessarily limited in its ability to contest certain pieces of evidence, to call favorable witnesses, to present a coherent and convincing version of the facts. Marie Edith Douzima-Lawson, Bozizé's lawyer, merely indicated before the trial that the defense had "solid arguments," without going into detail. The exercise is perilous: defending someone who chose not to appear means defending someone who, by that very absence, complicates his own defense.

The SCC nevertheless chose to proceed, in conformity with international standards that permit in absentia trials under certain conditions — notably when the accused has been legally notified and chose not to appear. Central African law and the international standards the SCC references authorize this procedure. What Amnesty International contests is not the trial's legality, but its symbolic and practical effectiveness as long as the principal accused remains out of reach.

Central African History: Sixty Years of Bloody Cycles

From Independence to Institutionalized Impunity

The Central African Republic gained independence from France on August 13, 1960. Since then, its political history has been an almost uninterrupted succession of coups, authoritarian regimes, rebellions, and civil wars. Seizure of power by armed force has become, in this country, the norm rather than the exception. Bokassa, Kolingba, Patassé, Bozizé, then Touadéra under Russian protection: every transition generated its own wave of violence, its own lot of unrecognized victims.

This long history of impunity is precisely what the SCC is attempting to interrupt. It was created to address not only the most recent crimes, but all serious violations committed since 2003 — encompassing acts that occurred under several different administrations. The scale of the task is vertiginous. The available resources, derisory. But the work is real and documented: six trials opened, ten convictions pronounced, hundreds of victims heard and recorded.

Despite the Gold, One of the World's Poorest Countries

The CAR is a country of wrenching contradictions. It has vast reserves of gold, diamonds, and uranium. And yet it ranks among the world's poorest nations: one in three inhabitants lives on less than two dollars a day. This natural wealth has never benefited the population, captured as it is by predatory elites, smuggling networks, and, more recently, foreign operators — Wagner/Africa Corps chief among them — who exploit resources in exchange for military protection. Violence here is not only political: it is also economic, systemic, structural.

It is in this context that the Bossembélé trial takes on an additional dimension: it is not just about judging a man for past crimes. It is about contesting the very logic of a system where power is acquired by force, maintained through terror, and ends in gilded exile rather than accountability. Every conviction pronounced by the SCC is a small victory against this logic. Not enough. But real.

International Diplomacy Facing Impunity in Central Africa

The UN: Between Symbolic Support and Practical Ineffectiveness

The United Nations co-founded the SCC and maintains an active presence through MINUSCA — the peacekeeping mission in the CAR. The UN presence is real: UN observers attended the opening of the Bossembélé trial, and the SCC benefits from international technical and financial support. But this support runs into its own structural limits. The Security Council cannot impose Bozizé's extradition on Guinea-Bissau. Nor can it force the SCC's permanent funding if member states do not commit to it.

UN support for the SCC is therefore real but insufficient. Amnesty International has in recent months called for "increased support" for the Court, alerting to its serious financial difficulties. The SCC sees its mandate extended to 2028, but without adequate resources, this mandate risks becoming an empty shell. The international community, which wanted this institution, bears direct responsibility for its viability.

The Western Position: Between Stated Ideals and Insufficient Commitments

Western countries — the United States, the European Union, France — were among the principal promoters of transitional justice mechanisms in Africa. They supported the SCC's creation, contributed to its funding, provided judicial experts. This coherence between stated values and concrete acts deserves to be noted — and encouraged. But the reality is that this commitment remains insufficient relative to the scale of the challenge.

The diplomatic pressure exerted on states like Guinea-Bissau to cooperate with SCC warrants remains too timid. Available sanction instruments — asset freezes, visa restrictions, aid conditionality — are rarely mobilized in a coordinated manner to compel countries that shelter suspects of international crimes. The West must own its share: defending international judicial institutions cannot be limited to statements of principle. Concrete acts are needed, real pressure, costs imposed on those who protect fugitives from justice.

The Previous Conviction: Bozizé Already Tried and Sentenced in 2022

Forced Labor for Life for Conspiracy and Rebellion

The "Bossembélé" trial is not the first judgment concerning François Bozizé. In September 2022, a Central African court already convicted him in absentia — in his absence, therefore — to life imprisonment with forced labor for conspiracy, rebellion, and murder. This conviction concerned his role in the CPC rebel offensive in late 2020. It had no more caused his extradition or return to the CAR to face justice.

We are thus dealing with a man convicted once for the events of 2020–2021, and now tried for crimes committed much earlier, between 2009 and 2013. The recidivism of impunity is total: neither the first conviction, nor the issuance of an international arrest warrant in 2024, nor the opening of the present trial have been sufficient to convince him to surrender to justice. Bozizé accumulates in absentia convictions as others accumulate decorations. This says something profound about the relationship to law in certain African political cultures — and about the inadequacy of international enforcement mechanisms.

A Jurisprudence Being Built, Block by Block

Despite the absence of the principal accused, this trial contributes to building a Central African jurisprudence on crimes against humanity. Every SCC decision — every indictment, every hearing, every judgment — adds a brick to the legal edifice that this country is attempting, with difficulty, to give itself. The Special Criminal Court's Bossembélé trial is its sixth. Each of the five previous ones has refined procedures, trained magistrates, documented the judicial history of a country that had practically none.

This long-term work is discreet, little publicized, often depressing in its fractional advances. But it is real. And it represents something precious in a country where, for decades, the only tribunal that mattered was that of weapons. The fact that Central African and international judges sit together to hear facts committed by a former presidential guard — this is, in itself, a rupture with history.

The Suspended Trial: Judicial Mechanics Under Strain

A First Suspension as Early as June 18

Barely opened on June 16, the "Bossembélé" trial experienced a first suspension as early as June 18, 2026, according to information reported by the Journal de Bangui. The precise details of this suspension were not fully made public, but this type of interruption is common in complex criminal proceedings — procedural questions, communication of evidence, hearing schedules. The Journal de Bangui also reported, on June 19, that the Special Criminal Court had laid out in detail the charges retained against Bozizé and his co-accused.

These interruptions should not be interpreted as signs of failure. A trial of this scale — involving four accused, crimes committed over several years, hundreds of potential victims, witnesses to hear, evidence to file — is necessarily a long and complex procedure. The SCC has already managed five previous trials with this same procedural rigor. Suspensions are part of the process. What matters is that the work resumes, that hearings are held, that victims are heard.

The Calendar of International Justice: A Matter of the Long Term

One of the most frequent criticisms addressed to international and hybrid criminal courts is their slowness. Years of investigation, years of trial, years of appeal: meanwhile, the accused age, witnesses die, memories fade. This slowness is real and has a human cost. But it also has a counterpart: the procedural rigor that allows these judgments to withstand appeals and carry incontestable authority once pronounced.

The "Bossembélé" trial unfolds in this long time. Bozizé is 79. The SCC's mandate runs to 2028. If a decision is rendered before this deadline, it will be the product of serious, documented, contradictory judicial work as much as possible. And if Bozizé were one day to be apprehended — a possibility no one can exclude — all the work accomplished in absentia will be available to resume proceedings on solid grounds.

The Continental Stakes: African Justice at a Crossroads

African Precedents: Lessons from Rwanda and Sierra Leone

The Bossembélé trial fits into a broader trajectory of criminal justice in Africa. The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) and the Special Court for Sierra Leone (SCSL) demonstrated, despite their limitations, that it was possible to judge those responsible for war crimes and crimes against humanity on the African continent. These precedents opened the way to hybrid mechanisms like the SCC. They also showed the pitfalls: slowness, cost, dependence on state cooperation.

More recently, experiences in Mali, South Sudan, and the Democratic Republic of Congo have illustrated how difficult establishing criminal accountability for mass crimes remains in contexts of persistent instability. The Central African SCC has a particularity: it is a national court with an international dimension, anchored in the country's judicial system rather than imposed from outside. This hybridity is both a strength — local legitimacy — and a weakness — insufficient resources.

Toward a Culture of Accountability in Central Africa?

The fundamental question raised by the Bossembélé trial is this: can one truly build a culture of accountability in Central Africa after decades of institutionalized impunity? The honest answer is: perhaps, if the conditions are met. These conditions include funded and independent judicial institutions, an active and protected civil society, a free press, effective regional and international cooperation, and a political will by leaders to no longer shield the crimes of their predecessors or allies.

None of these conditions is fully realized in the CAR today. But the "Bossembélé" trial demonstrates that an institution can advance even under adverse conditions, even without the full cooperation of states, even facing a principal accused in flight. It is a lesson in institutional persistence. That the SCC continues to hold hearings despite the financial, political, and security pressures bearing on it is, in itself, a remarkable act of resistance.

Conclusion: The Empty Chair Does Not Close the Case

An Imperfect Trial for a Necessary Justice

The in absentia trial of François Bozizé before the Special Criminal Court in Bangui is a historic event for the Central African Republic, for Central Africa, and for international justice. Imperfect? Yes. Tainted by the absence of the principal accused, weakened by Guinea-Bissau's refusal to cooperate, threatened by the SCC's funding shortfall — all of this is real and cannot be minimized. But necessary? Absolutely. Because the alternative — doing nothing, waiting indefinitely for the surrender of a 79-year-old man sheltered abroad — amounts to letting the case close without ever opening.

Justice is never perfect. It is always a compromise between the ideal of absolute truth and the practical realities of the world. What the SCC offers the victims of Bossembélé is a space where their suffering is recognized, documented, named. A space where the names of the accused are pronounced publicly, where the charges are read aloud, where the evidence is examined. This is not all that justice must be. But it is already something immense in a country where, for decades, the brutality of power left no official trace.

The Call to States: Cooperation Is Not Optional

The final message of this trial is addressed to all states sheltering suspects prosecuted by UN-mandated courts: cooperation with international justice is not optional — it is a moral obligation and, in many cases, a legal one. The international community must make the price of non-cooperation high enough that governments like Guinea-Bissau's recalculate their interests. As long as countries can host suspects of crimes against humanity without significant consequences, impunity will persist. And as long as impunity persists, conflicts in Central Africa — and elsewhere — will always have an exit route that does not pass through accountability.

Central Africa is facing its demons. This trial holds up a mirror. Will it have the courage to look?

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Cite this article

Maxime Marquette (2026). BRIEF: CAR — Bozizé Trial In Absentia for Crimes Against Humanity: Africa Facing Its Demons. MadMax. https://mad-max.co/en/article/billet-rca-proces-bozize-en-absentia-pour-crimes-contre-lhumanite-lafrique-devant-ses-d

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Maxime Marquette
Independent columnist

Maxime Marquette writes most of the analyses and columns published on MadMax — geopolitics, technology, and current events, no filler.

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